Claymore's Date
by RevSue
Summary: Claymore wants to attend his college reunion, and needs a very special date.


_Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I make no money from this work of fiction!_

A Date With Claymore

Carolyn stepped into Claymore's office with the rent money. "Good morning, Claymore." she greeted him. "I've got the rent money for the month, and I'm ready to sign the lease for another year."

"There's not much good about it." he sighed, staring at the papers on his desk. "And I hope you haven't already signed the cheque. You know I have to be careful when it comes to cheques from strangers."

"We're hardly strangers, Claymore. But no, I haven't signed the cheque yet." Carolyn sat down at the desk and put the cheque on the desk. "May I borrow a pen?"

"Strictly speaking, you should probably use your own, but what else are friends for?" Claymore passed over the pen he was using.

Carolyn eyed him momentarily before she signed the cheque then handed it to him. "Claymore, what is bothering you today?"

"Mrs. Muir, I've been thinking ... you know you owe me a favour, don't you?"

"A favour?" she looked at him in surprise.

"Of course. After all, I've allowed you to stay in Gull Cottage, I've gone over the top with regards to repairs when you know very well that it says in your lease that you would take it 'as is', I've even had to pretend to be HIM for you. So that means you owe me."

"I see." Carolyn was quiet, waiting for him to get to the point.

"I mean, I've really done far more than I ever expected to have to do, what with replacing the wiring in the kitchen, replacing the water heater ..."

"With a secondhand one which is on its last legs," Carolyn interjected.

He ignored her and continued, "Coming up here more times than I care to, often at the drop of a hat and at GREAT personal inconvenience, to replace windows carelessly broken by your children ..."

"You could have waited."

"And have HIM get angry and rain on all that expensive stuff? Are you crazy?"

"Claymore, what do you want me to do?" Somehow, Carolyn knew she wasn't going to get a straight answer from him unless she point-blank demanded it.

He shuffled his feet, cleared his throat, clawed at the collar of his shirt, and refused to look her in the eye. "You know, it's really just a simple thing. I mean, I wouldn't ask if it didn't mean so much to others. Not that I won't get something out of it, you understand, although it certainly won't help where it counts -- in the pocket book! But really, it's a simple favour. Not difficult ... and it won't cost you a thing! Except time." he concluded.

Carolyn waited.

Sure enough, he added, "And if you don't agree, I would find myself having to seriously reconsider our lease agreement."

"Are you THREATENING me, Claymore?" Carolyn exclaimed.

"Let's just say ... persuading, shall we? Threatening can be so ugly. How about, a continuing lease for Gull Cottage at the same rent as last year, in return for one teeny, tiny, almost insignificant favour?"

Carolyn found she could say nothing. What had he left her to say? No matter how he wanted to word it, he was threatening to evict her if she refused him. What on earth could he want that was so vital?

"Well?" he finally asked, when the silence had stretched longer than he felt comfortable with. "What's your answer?"

Feeling more like Jonathan than herself, Carolyn couldn't help it. "What's the question?"

"Mrs. Muir!" he exploded. "Haven't you been paying attention? You KNOW I've asked you to do a favour for me!"

"Claymore, you can't possibly expect me to agree to do you a favour when I don't know what the favour is!" she protested.

"Oh."

When he didn't seem about to add anything more, Carolyn sighed. She had to get back to Gull Cottage for lunch, and the five minutes Claymore had begged for had already turned into twenty. "All right, Claymore, if it is at all within my power, I will do you a favour."

"You will? Really?" his face lit up, then suddenly he looked suspicious. "What do you mean, if it is within your power? YOU don't have powers now, too, do you? Like HIS, I mean? Surely they don't rub off on someone else simply by constant exposure or anything like that, do they? I mean ..."

Carolyn stood up. "Claymore, you're being ridiculous. What EXACTLY do you want me to do for you?"

"I would say that leaves the field wide open for him to take full advantage of you, my dear," came the Captain's smooth tones.

Claymore yelped, and began to tremble. "Wh-what are you doing here? Get out of here! You're supposed to haunt Gull Cottage, not me! Mrs. Muir, tell him to leave!"

Captain Gregg leaned over Claymore's desk towards the hapless man, who shrank down in his chair, looking as if he planned to slide right under his desk. "Tell the lady what you think you require," his voice was low, controlled, and very menacing.

"Captain, please, I can deal with it. I'll be home soon." Carolyn tried to defuse the situation.

"Just ... just back off! I hate that 175-year-old breath!" Claymore said petulantly, his courage returning at Carolyn's unexpected support. "I'll tell her when you leave, and not a moment before!"

The Captain's eyes narrowed, and he straightened up slowly, his gaze never leaving Claymore. "Very well. I shall await your presence at home, Mrs. Muir." He waited for a second more, then vanished. Carolyn let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding, and her attention turned back to Claymore.

The shrinking man cleared his throat once more, then squeaked, "Is he gone? REALLY gone?"

"I think so, Claymore. Please ... what do you want me to do for you?"

"I ... I want you to come with me to my college reunion next weekend in Boston." he said in a rush. "It's the twentieth reunion of the class of '51 of Bentley Business College. There's an informal gathering on the Friday night, a harbour cruise Saturday afternoon followed by a gala dinner and dance in the evening. I have to act fast in order to book accommodations in the hotel on the waterfront where everything is happening. Rooms are at a premium this time of year! And the prices! Mrs. Muir, have you ever been to the Boston Harbor Hotel? To STAY, I mean?"

"Well, no, it's not really in my budget, Claymore."

"Well, all I can say is that at least the College managed to get a block of rooms reserved for half price. And even THAT is more than I care to think about!"

"Claymore, I don't understand why you want ME to come."

"It's like this, Mrs. Muir. You're a famous writer. People KNOW about you. I have some admirable qualities, too, but, well, I just would like you to go with me, okay?"

"Claymore ..." Then Carolyn narrowed her eyes. "You want me to go with you, so that you look successful, is that it?"

"No, of course not! Don't be silly!" he gave a little giggle, but looked very uncomfortable. Carolyn knew she was right. "After all," he continued, "I'm VERY successful! Look at the business I do here in Schooner Bay! Anyway, Mrs. Muir, today is the last day to register. I have to let them know right away. If you won't come with me, well, I guess I'll just, you know, stay at home. I don't really need to go anyway."

"I have the feeling I'm going to regret this, but ... all right, Claymore. I'll go with you."

"Oh, THANK you, Mrs. Muir! I knew I could count on you to sav ... uhh, to assist me in my hour of need ... well, not that I really NEED you to come with me, you understand, but ..."

"May we sign the lease now for next year? After all, that IS why I came in to Schooner Bay this morning, anyway!"

"Uh ... no. No, if it's all the same with you, I'd rather leave it until next week. Insurance purposes, you understand." he grabbed the papers from his desk and put them behind his back.

"What do you mean, INSURANCE?" Carolyn stared at him.

"Well, it's just that people are always agreeing to do something for me, then changing their minds, or claiming that something has come up. I won't take that chance. Not this year. Not with my twenty-year reunion. No, indeedy. We'll sign the lease next week."

Carolyn fumed silently, but realized she had no choice. "Very well, Claymore. When exactly do we leave? And what all does this reunion entail?"

"You can pick me up right after lunch, Mrs. Muir. That should give us time to get settled into the hotel before the wine and cheese party that evening."

"I'm to pick you up?" Wondering why she was surprised, Carolyn nevertheless had to ask.

"Well, after all, Schooner Bay is on the way to Boston. You have to come through here anyway."

"It's your reunion, Claymore." she pointed out, dryly.

"Well, if there's anything you need to do in Boston, we might be able to squeeze out a little time for YOUR stuff. If you insist. Maybe meet a publisher or something? Maybe we could get my picture taken for the back of the Captain's Memoir's ... standing by Old Ironsides! The publisher must have a photographer on staff ... don't you think that's a wonderful plan? I'll wear blue, of course, to match my eyes."

"No, that's all right." Carolyn held up her hand. "The book is out, Claymore, remember? Just. In fact, I have our complimentary copies in the car, I think. I just picked up the mail."

"Oh! Oh, how marvellous! And what excellent timing, too! Just before the reunion!" He beamed and rubbed his hands together. "May I see the book? Please? Just to see how the picture turned out!"

Carolyn sighed. Having Claymore's picture on there at all was still a sore point with the Captain, but just a few months ago, she had promised Claymore it would appear there if he would pretend to be the Captain for her when her cousin Harriet had arrived at Gull Cottage. She wasn't sure how he would react when he found out that the picture was a tiny black and white one on the inside of the back cover. Maybe she should just give him a copy and hurry back to Gull Cottage before he saw it. "I'll get one out of the car. Just a minute."

She stepped out into the warm sunshine of the late August day. Claymore was right at her heels. "I can't believe this ... I'm famous! Oh, Mrs. Muir, this must be the happiest day of my life."

"I hope not." she muttered, ripping open the package, and pulling one of the books out. "Here, Claymore. And I really must run, I don't want to keep Martha OR the Captain waiting. One of them might come looking for me."

Claymore blanched, clutching the book to his chest in nervous fingers as he scanned the area. "Oh, he wouldn't come back, WOULD he, Mrs. Muir? He SAID he would wait for you in Gull Cottage!"

"Good bye, Claymore." she got in the car.

"Bye, Mrs. Muir! And thank you again! See you about one o'clock on Friday!"

"You have agreed to WHAT?" the Captain thundered.

Carolyn responded with a show of innocent concern. "Captain, I had no idea your hearing had been compromised with your age! I'll speak louder and more slowly. I have agreed to go with Claymore, as his date, to his college reunion in Boston this weekend."

Fortunately, she had taken the precaution of standing back from him. In lieu of getting his hands around her neck, the Captain pounded the desk. "Blast it, woman! I am not deaf, merely incredulous! How DARE you do this without consulting me?"

Carolyn looked beseechingly heavenward. "Exactly what would you have done if I'd asked you?"

He pounced headlong after the bait. "Put a stop to this whole foolish business!"

She had him. "Exactly!"

"I forbid you to go with him!"

"You... you WHAT?"

"I repeat, I forbid you to go with him!"

"Captain," Carolyn's face flushed with anger. "You have no right to forbid me to do anything!"

"I have the right of someone who lo ..." he stopped suddenly.

"Someone who ...?" she prompted him.

"Never mind." he turned away.

Carolyn sighed, her anger suddenly dissipating. She was sure he had started to say, 'someone who LOVES you', so why wouldn't he finish the sentiment out loud? Ever since that night of her parents anniversary dinner, when he had said that if he were alive he would shower her with everything she could possibly want, he had seemed to withdraw. Had he changed his mind? Did he no longer care for her? Maybe she SHOULD let Claymore evict her! No. The Captain loved her. She would hold on to that. He was probably embarrassed by his show of emotion in the front yard that night, and probably felt that as a spirit, he should not confess his feelings for a mortal. Yet that didn't stop him from trying to run her life! She sat down at her desk, and began to shuffle some papers.

"My dear, why are you doing this?" the Captain spoke again. "The truth, now! You must feel sorry for him, am I not right? And you have a sort of saviour complex or something, as I believe is the term used nowadays. Do you think that perhaps you can reform him? 'Tis impossible to strengthen the backbone of a jelly fish since they do not possess one! What can you see in him?"

"Perhaps I am anxious to meet some of the people at the university. It might further my career. The book of your Memoirs has just come out. What if it tops the best sellers list?"

"Perhaps that is why that inane sideshow folly wants you at his side! To lend him credence!"

Carolyn smiled. Even though that was what she had wondered herself, she said mildly, "I hardly think my presence will help him in any way, Captain. I'm going with him merely to keep him company. Nothing more."

"He must want more from you than that! Otherwise why would you even consider it?"

She could not tell him about Claymore's threat to throw her out of Gull Cottage. "Perhaps I want to spend more time with him, to get to know him better?"

The Captain leaned over her desk, staring deeply into her eyes, and bluntly said, "Bilge."

Startled, Carolyn's face betrayed her for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. "You don't believe me." she said, unnecessarily.

"I do not."

Carolyn stood up without another word and went out onto the balcony, taking hold of the wheel. Her eyes steadfastly remained fixed on the endless waves.

At last the Captain materialized by her side.

"Believe me, my dear, I would not act this way merely on a whim. I have the best interests of my nephew at heart."

Turning to look at him, an incredulous look in her eyes, Carolyn said softly and distinctly, "Bilge." She held her stance for a moment longer, then deliberately spun on her heel and went back inside.

Carolyn didn't have much time during the week to fret over her argument with the Captain OR the upcoming weekend with Claymore. She received the news on the Wednesday that her book, The Memoirs of Captain Daniel Gregg, was on the New York Times Best Sellers list. Since then, she had received phone calls of congratulations, offers of other stories to write, invitations to speak to various groups in the state, flowers decorated every room and boxes upon boxes of chocolates flowed in from admirers. Martha was almost in a state of collapse by Friday morning.

"I swear, Mrs. Muir, I never thought I'd be glad to see you leaving. Maybe we'll manage to get a bit of peace in the house! I intend to take out an advertisement in the paper saying 'Mrs. Muir, famous author, is not at home for the weekend. Please do not bother calling.' I may even get the phone disconnected."

Carolyn laughed. "Surely it's not THAT bad, Martha!"

"Maybe take some of this candy and see if you can pawn it off on some other poor, unsuspecting dieter." Martha looked darkly at the boxes piled on the corner of the kitchen cupboard.

"Don't listen to her, Mom!" Candy spoke up quickly. "WE'LL eat the candy!"

"Yeah. You can take the flowers, they're stupid, but we can take care of the chocolate for you!" agreed Jonathan.

"I promise you can eat all the candy you want ... as long as you continue to eat your meals, and you clean your teeth faithfully! Agreed?" Carolyn kissed both children.

"Yes, Mom." they sighed.

"I'll be gone when you get home from school, so be good for Martha, all right?"

"Have fun, Mom!" Candy gave Carolyn a fierce hug. "I wish I could go with you."

"Oh, sweetie, I wish you could too." Carolyn smiled.

"I wouldn't want to go to a dumb old reunion ... especially with CLAYMORE ... but it would be neat to go on that cruise tomorrow afternoon. Take lots of pictures, okay?" Jonathan hugged his mother, too.

"Okay." Carolyn nodded. "Oh, there's the bus. Goodbye, Candy. Bye, Jonathan. See you Sunday!"

"Bye, Mom! See you later, Martha!" The two ran out the door.

"You're all packed?" Martha asked, sitting down with Carolyn at the table after pouring them each another cup of coffee.

"Yes. Clothes for tonight's party, the cruise tomorrow, and the dance tomorrow night." Carolyn sat with her chin on her hand. "You know, Martha, it COULD be a fun time."

"Yes, it could. Too bad Claymore is your date." Martha grinned. "You won't get much dancing out of him."

"Just as well. He's a terrible dancer."

"But it's such a shame ... seeing how you love dancing so much."

"Maybe someone will cut in." Carolyn sipped her coffee thoughtfully.

"Someone dashing and handsome like Captain Gregg." Martha murmured.

"Martha, I was not aware you cared ..." came the Captain's amused voice from behind Carolyn.

Carolyn jumped and the coffee in her cup spilt on her hand. Martha got to her feet to get the dishcloth to wipe it up. "Captain, you know what they say about eavesdroppers, don't you?"

"I have never heard anything bad about myself yet. After all, there is nothing bad for anyone to talk about!"

"Oh, really?" Carolyn asked, shaking the coffee off her hand, then wiping it with the cloth.

"Not at all. You heard Martha. I am dashing and handsome. I have even been called magnificent!" his voice was tender. Then he grinned and said, "More than once, might I add."

"I'll make book on the fact you've never been called humble." Martha chuckled. "I'll go sweep the front step and walk, and leave you two to say your goodbyes. Oh, but before I leave, Captain, don't you think you could pop in to the dance tomorrow night and take Mrs. Muir for a spin?"

"Martha!" Carolyn protested.

"A spin?" questioned the Captain, his eyebrows raised.

"You know, dance with her. She's stuck with Claymore, and we all know how terrible he is at dancing. I've heard you say you can waltz beautifully ... prove it and dance with Mrs. Muir tomorrow night in Boston. Just a suggestion, of course." Martha grabbed the broom and headed out the door.

"Would that I COULD dance with you again, my dear." the Captain said.

Carolyn looked up at him, and her smile lit her face. "Like when you took over Claymore's body to dance with me last September?"

"That night, the joy of feeling you in my arms at last made my afterlife dealings with that leech all worthwhile."

"Technically, it was Claymore's arms." she pointed out, draining her coffee and taking it over to the sink to rinse it out.

The Captain grinned, and his hands came down on her shoulders, turning her to face him. "Ah, but that taste made me realize that with a little more effort on my part, I could actually touch you myself."

Carolyn smiled up at him. "Just a little more effort?" she teased him gently. "I seem to remember it took until after Christmas." And even then the touches were fleeting, almost furtive, serving only to frustrate her further instead of satisfy her!

"After the dream I gave you, wherein you became aware of the extent of my intentions towards you and your family. Were I mortal again, I suspect I would woo, then wed you and care for you and your family. But alas, that is never to be. You may be assured, however, that as a spirit, my regard for you is of the highest order." His hands remained rather impersonally on her shoulders, and she knew that the passionate kiss of the dream would never come in reality. No doubt he believed that it was best for her that their relationship remain platonic, or some such nonsense.

Carolyn reached up and touched his face lightly. "But you're not mortal. I still find it hard to believe that an illusion can be warm and tangible." She swallowed hard, intensely aware of the feeling of longing and desire that swept over her. Yet she didn't WANT to love him! She was happy with his companionship, wasn't she? He seemed unable to speak words of love, and she had to be content with what he would give her. If he wouldn't tell her he loved her, she would certainly never admit her love to him! And, as a modern woman, surely she didn't need his love! Unable to bear thinking about it anymore, she twisted out of his arms. "Excuse me, Captain, but I have to go and pack."

His face changed. "You are not STILL seriously thinking of going with that ... that bilge barnacle to Boston, are you?"

As she went out the door, Carolyn threw the light comment over her shoulder, "I'm past thinking about it, Captain. I'm leaving in a few hours."

A thunderous crash shook the house. Martha came back into the kitchen, and shook her head when she saw the scowl on the Captain's face.

"Now what, Captain?"

"I forbade her to go, and she did not listen! I garner no respect in my own house!"

"Captain Gregg," Martha said, rather gently for her, "This is the twentieth century. Women are more than able to think for themselves, and cannot be commanded to do anything. Particularly, if I may say it, commands from someone who has no business interfering."

The Captain drew himself up to his full height. He made an imposing figure. "Gull Cottage belongs to ME, and the entire crew aboard MY ship is subject to MY commands."

Martha sighed, and walked around him, muttering, "I'm going to apply for a land job next."

He disappeared with another crack of thunder, only to reappear in Carolyn's room. For the next two hours, he did everything in his power to interrupt her packing, to convince her that she was not doing the right thing by the children, to get her to bend to his will. All in vain. He roared when he saw the evening dress that she was carefully packing for the night of the dance.

"That is nothing more than a few pieces of gauze to cover your front! How could you possibly be seen in public wearing nothing but THAT! By the powers, woman, there is NO BACK to that dress! It is positively indecent!"

Carolyn clenched her teeth together. Her headache was growing.

"Captain Gregg, without a doubt, you are the most aggravating, arrogant and overbearing man I have ever met!" Carolyn brushed past him and stormed out of the door, calling a quick goodbye to Martha as she went. As she got in the car, the Captain appeared by the gate. "And don't you DARE try to stop me! I will see you when we get back on Sunday, and not a moment before!"

"Don't count on it." was his thunderous response.

She slammed the car door shut, started it, and was off. As she was driving in to Schooner Bay, she was fuming at the Captain's high-handedness. How DARE he forbid her to go to Boston for the weekend! He wasn't her keeper, although he certainly seemed to think he was! What was it with him, anyway? His 19th century values? He had been shocked to hear she was going away for the weekend with Claymore. Martha, Candy and Jonathan had been fine with it. It wasn't as though she was planning a torrid love affair with the man, or anything! If Claymore hadn't threatened her with eviction from Gull Cottage, there was a very good chance she would have been staying in Maine this weekend. Yet any decision she made about her life was just that. HER decision. No one else's. Certainly NOT Captain Gregg's! Perhaps the Captain was jealous? For a moment Carolyn toyed with that idea. It was certainly a flattering thought for her. Yet it still hadn't made him jealous enough to speak of his love to her. And it was enough to make her rethink her love, she grumbled. What she felt for the Captain couldn't be put into words. Whoever heard of loving a spirit, anyway? She could admire him, enjoy his company, be fond of him, but love him? Nonsense.

Pushing aside all thoughts of Captain Gregg, Carolyn came to a stop in front of Claymore's. He bounced out the door with his suitcase in hand, and threw it in the back seat, climbing into the passenger seat even before Carolyn could get out and offer him the driver's job.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Muir! Lovely day today, isn't it?" he chirped.

She smiled a little frostily. "Yes. Umm, Claymore, wouldn't you rather drive?"

"Oh no. I'm not one of those macho men who feel they have to take charge." he leaned back in his seat.

Mentally, Carolyn agreed that he certainly wasn't a macho man. Nothing like the Captain! But she was not going to think about the Captain any more. She had a whole weekend to herself. Then Carolyn eyed Claymore again for a moment, trying to figure out what was different about him. Her eyes widened as he took off his hat carefully, laying it on the seat between them. He was wearing a hairpiece! He patted it into place, then caught her eye and dropped his hand quickly. "Well?" he spoke a little testily. "Let's go, shall we? We don't want to be late for the wine and cheese, now, do we?"

Turning away, Carolyn clenched her teeth in an effort not to smile. Poor Claymore! She carefully drove out of Schooner Bay, and in no time was on the highway heading for Boston.

"Mrs. Muir, I have to thank you again for agreeing to come with me. Why, if you weren't here with me, I can tell you quite frankly that I wouldn't be going."

"Oh?" Carolyn glanced at him, then back at the road, choking back a laugh. He looked so utterly ridiculous with that hair piece! There, it just flapped in the wind from the open window, and now was on crooked! Her muscles ached already from holding in the merriment, and she was afraid that after an entire weekend, she would need to be on muscle relaxants and pain killers for a month!

"I just can't tell you how much this means to me." Claymore felt for the hairpiece and realized it was crooked. He rolled the window up a bit, then tried casually to push the hair back into place. Out of the corner of her eye, Carolyn could see it was even worse than before, and laughter almost bubbled out. She bit her tongue hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, and the pain took her mind off Claymore for an blessed instant.

At last they arrived in Boston. Carolyn negotiated the freeway and parked in the hotel parking lot in what seemed to be the very last parking space. She drew in a deep breath. She still found it hard to look at Claymore. At least the hairpiece was on a little straighter now! He had taken a moment to check in it the side mirror while she was getting her suitcase out of the back seat. He then grabbed his bag, and swaggered in to the hotel and up to the desk, Carolyn trailing a little behind. She dropped her case by him and half turned away, awed by her surroundings.

Claymore leaned over the desk, beckoning the man to come closer.

"The ... uh, Gregg's checking in." Claymore murmured.

"I'm sorry, sir, what was the name?"

"Gregg." Claymore repeated a little louder.

"Ah, yes. You registered rather late, sir. You are fortunate that you were able to get a room at all, you understand. I'm sure you'll be happy with the one we had left. Sign here, please." the man pushed the thick guest register across the desk. Claymore signed it quickly, glancing anxiously around at Carolyn before he started. She was busy staring around the elegant lobby, not paying much attention.

"Sir? Madam?" The bellhop was at their side. He picked up Carolyn's suitcase in one hand, Claymore's in the other. "Please, follow me. I'll show you to your room. This way."

Carolyn grabbed Claymore's arm and held him back, hissing, "Did he just say, 'your ROOM'? Didn't he mean 'rooms' ... as in TWO?"

Claymore looked very uncomfortable. "Well, actually, I sort of, well, registered us as ... Mr. and Mrs. Gregg."

"WHAT?"

"Mrs. Muir!" he hissed back, "People are looking! Keep your voice down! After all, I had to play your boyfriend for your parents. Surely it won't be much of a hardship for you to pretend to be my wife. You're an actress! You were the star of our Schooner Bay production 2 years ago!"

"Claymore, WHAT are you talking about?"

"Have you forgotten the play...?"

"You KNOW what I mean, Claymore Gregg. I have to pretend to be your WIFE this weekend?" she tightened her fingers around his arm, her voice rising.

"SHHH!" he looked around quickly, then tugged his arm out of her grasp. "This is a classy hotel, Mrs. Muir! Let's not air our dirty laundry in public! Do you realize how much these rooms ARE a night? I couldn't possibly afford to reserve TWO rooms for TWO nights! No, that was quite out of the question. So instead, I purposefully asked for a suite, with two double beds. Wasn't that smart of me? Besides, it was the last room left. He said so. We'll discuss this in the room later, shall we? Not that we have much time. You weren't driving very fast to get here, and there is only an hour before we're to register and be at the wine and cheese party. Isn't it fortunate that it's at this very hotel?"

Carolyn stared at him in silence for a moment, wondering if she could possibly go into hysterics on the spot.

"Sir? Madam? Please, follow me!" the bellhop had turned back and was waiting impatiently for them.

"Come along, my dear," Claymore offered Carolyn his arm gallantly, affecting the Captain's cultured tones.

Clenching her jaw, Carolyn took the arm, and pinched hard enough to make Claymore wince even as he walked into the elevator. The bellhop told the uniformed man in the elevator that they were heading for the sixth floor, and he pressed the button. The doors slid noiselessly closed.

"So, this your first time in Boston?"

Carolyn would have loved to ignore the man, but couldn't bring herself to be rude to him. After all, it wasn't HIS fault Claymore was so ... so CLAYMORE! "No," she said, softly. "I've come often, but usually on business."

"Ahh. So this is a pleasure trip?"

"We're here for the twentieth reunion of Bentley College. You know, that very highly rated business school. Of course, when I attended and graduated, near the top of the class, I might add, the campus was right here in Boston. I believe just a couple of years ago it moved out to Waltham." Claymore said chattily.

"Have a very pleasant stay here, sir, madam," the man said as the elevator doors slid open. The bellhop indicated the direction, and they proceeded to the door of the suite. The number was centred on a large red heart. Carolyn looked at it curiously for a moment, then the bellhop had the door open and was ushering them in. The young man indicated the view of the busy harbour out the large windows.

"Isn't that a lovely view?" he said. "And here, on this table is a basket of fruit, compliments of the Boston Harbour Hotel. Over there is the mini bar, and in the refrigerator you will find a bottle of our complimentary champagne. May your love and life always be as wonderful as we hope your stay with us will be. I'll leave you to unpack. Someone will be up this evening with your bathrobes and will turn down the bedclothes for you. Be sure to call the desk if there is anything at all we can do for you!"

He handed the key to Claymore with a flourish, then stood waiting. Claymore eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "What?" he finally asked.

"Sir," was all the young man said.

Carolyn leaned closer to Claymore, and whispered, "Tip!"

"What? OH! Yes, all right ... I suppose." Fumbling in his pocket for some change, Claymore tipped him a quarter.

The young man stared at it, then back at Claymore. "This is a joke, right?"

"You get paid, don't you?" Claymore asked testily. "We could have carried our own bags up, and believe me, we'll be carrying them down ourselves. As for pushing the button on the elevator, that's not even your job, it's someone else's. You just took up space."

The man seemed about to say something, but he stopped himself. As he bowed and went to the door, Carolyn pressed a five dollar bill in his hand and received a big smile in return. Claymore had turned away and was examining the room.

Carolyn followed him, her eyes taking in the magnificent view of the harbour, and the king-sized bed which took up a great deal of the room. The small table with the fruit basket and two kitchen chairs stood to one side with the tiny fridge set in a counter, cupboards above and below. Claymore opened the top cupboards and exclaimed over the wine glasses, water glasses and coffee cups. The coffee maker stood on the countertop by the sink. He opened the bottom cupboards and found a decent supply of liquor. In the fridge was the champagne, with a note attached.

"Look at this, Mrs. Muir. The champagne says the same thing he said. 'May your love and life always be as wonderful as we hope your stay with us will be.' Sounds like something you'd get on your honeymoon!" and he laughed foolishly.

Carolyn opened a door, looking for the second bedroom, and was transfixed by the huge bathroom with a separate shower, a giant-sized jet tub, a long counter with two sinks in the marble top and piles of fluffy towels. Claymore came up behind her and peaked over her shoulder.

"Wow. Someone could drown in that." he said. "Look, it's even got a couple of seats so two people can SIT in it like a hot tub! Fancy!" he tried to whistle.

Carolyn said nothing, but continued her search for the second bedroom. The only other door led to a closet. Her face set, she turned back to Claymore. "There is only one bed, Claymore."

"What? No, no, this isn't FAIR! I asked for two beds! How could this happen?"

"Phone the desk and ask."

"Well, Mrs. Muir, I really hate to make waves, you know. I mean, in a classy place like this, it just isn't DONE ..."

"PHONE, Claymore!" she said in a low, dangerous voice.

"Yes, yes, right away!" he scrambled over to the telephone and picked it up.

"Hello? Yes, this is Claymore Gregg. In, ah, room ... ah ... well, you know. Listen, when I phoned for a reservation, I particularly requested two beds. This room only has one. ... What do you mean, I was late reserving? Why does that matter? Oh. So this was the only room left. Oh." He put his hand over the receiver, and looked at Carolyn. "There isn't another room, Mrs. Muir. They're completely full."

"Then ask for a cot. That bathroom is plenty big enough for a cot." Carolyn went and looked out the window, trying to calm down. She couldn't believe the messes Claymore continually got into, and this was one time she had no intentions of helping him out. Bad enough he had coerced her into coming on this trip in the first place!

"Right. A cot." He got back on the phone. "Hello? I was just talking with Mrs. Gregg ... she wants to know if you have a cot you can send up... STOP LAUGHING! Can we have a cot, please? ... oh. Yes, I know it's a busy weekend. ... Well, you don't have to be so huffy. ... What do you mean, have we had a fight already? What does that have to do with anything? What?" Claymore almost choked. "We're in the HONEYMOON suite?"

Carolyn heard and spun around. "WHAT?"

"Fine." Claymore muttered and hung up. He looked helplessly at Carolyn and shrugged. "What can I say, Mrs. Muir? It was the last room left. It wasn't intentional, you know. I told you, I ASKED for two beds! Look, we can sort this out later. Let's go down to the wine and cheese party. I'm really getting thirsty!" He reached up to scratch his head, and the hairpiece fell off. "Oh!" Catching it in his hand, he quickly shut himself in the bathroom.

Once down in the conference room reserved for the Bentley College Reunion wine and cheese party, Carolyn couldn't help but hear the whispers.

"Look, that beautiful blonde with that guy ... isn't that Carolyn Muir, the writer who has the new best seller out?"

"It's got to be! Who's she with?"

"I dunno. Wonder why she's here?"

"Do you think we can ask for her autograph?"

"Isn't he that fellow who used to ask everyone out? That jerk ... forgotten his name ..."

"He asked ME out ... I wouldn't have been caught DEAD with him."

"She must know something we don't."

"She LOOKS normal enough."

"Maybe all that writing fried her brain or something."

"What can she see in him?"

"Good thing love is blind!"

"Look, they're registering. Do you think SHE went to Bentley College too?"

"Nah, can't see a looker like her in business. Besides, haven't you read her book? And she had a real spicy story out a year or so ago in Feminine View magazine. Va-va-va-VOOM!"

"Who's the guy?"

"Who cares! Let's go talk to Carolyn Muir!"

"You first."

"No, you brought it up. Wish I knew the guy she's with. He must be really something to have snagged HER!"

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, Carolyn stood closer to Claymore as he approached the registration desk. "Claymore Gregg here, class of '51, ... and this is the little woman."

Carolyn winced. She hated that saying. Robert had used it, too, and it had always bothered her.

"Mrs. Gregg, glad to have you with us." the man behind the desk shook her hand cordially, then held on to it while he continued staring at her. "Uh, have we met before? You look very familiar!"

Claymore grinned, sticking out his chest proudly. "You probably know the wife by her maiden name. Carolyn Muir? She wrote my great-uncle's memoirs, and it's on the best seller's list."

"Muir isn't my maiden name, Claymore." Carolyn muttered, pulling her hand out of the registrar's and smiling weakly at him.

"Whatever. It's Gregg now, isn't it, darling? Mrs. Claymore Gregg." His chest puffed out even further, conscious of the many eyes on them.

The registrar handed them both name tags. Carolyn eyed hers, "Carolyn Gregg," she whispered, almost to herself.

"I beg your pardon?" the registrar asked.

"Oh, nothing." Carolyn said hastily.

"Come, Mrs. M ... Gregg, shall we mingle?" Claymore tugged her towards the table with the wine on it.

Before they could reach it, they were surrounded by a crowd of men. "You're Carolyn Muir, aren't you?" came the questions. "The famous writer?"

While Carolyn was nodding and smiling, Claymore put his arm heavily around her shoulders. "Actually, she's now Mrs. Claymore Gregg. She's my wife. I'm Claymore Gregg. I went to Bentley College and graduated in 1951. Remember me?"

No one paid any attention to him. "Can we have your autograph, please? Imagine, seeing Carolyn Muir HERE. Who do you know here, miss?"

"Well, actually ..." Carolyn began, as Claymore cleared his throat noisily. "It's my ... my husband's reunion we're attending."

"Husband?"

"ME!" Claymore spoke loudly. "I'm Claymore Gregg, Mrs. Muir's husband! I mean, Mrs. Gregg's! We just, you know, tied the knot, so to speak. Yes, she's Mrs. Claymore Gregg now. Except for her writing, of course. She's keeping the name Muir for that, I guess. "

Finally people began to pay some attention to Claymore. While Carolyn began signing autographs, Claymore held forth on how he had met Carolyn, offered her a lovely seaside home with enough privacy to do her writing, how he had taken care of all her needs as a first-time dweller in an isolated house instead of a city apartment, how his charm and natural wit had entranced her to the point that she had begged him to marry her and keep her company for the rest of their days on this earth ...

Carolyn casually stepped on Claymore's toe rather heavily at this point, and he stopped mid-sentence with a yelp which he turned into a cough. "Could you get me some wine, please, Claymore dear?" she cooed.

"Oh! Oh, yes, all right. Yes, coming right up." He hurried over to the wine table.

Carolyn finished scribbling her name on all of the proffered papers. Three women came up at that point, and the men reluctantly made way for them to speak with Carolyn. Claymore hurried back with a glass of wine for Carolyn, which she took and thanked him before taking a rather large gulp of it. She hoped she was going to make it through the evening.

"So, you are Carolyn Muir's husband?" the redhead asked Claymore. "What's your name again?"

"Claymore Gregg," he said eagerly. "I attended Bentley College ..."

"Yes, Claymore, most of the people here did." Carolyn stopped him before he went into another long, boring recital. "Why don't you go and mingle?" she asked.

"Be nice to her. She's my wife," he boasted, patting Carolyn's cheek. "AND she's a famous writer." He caught sight of Carolyn's glare at that point, and laughed a trifle uncomfortably. "I'll ... I'll just run along and mingle a little." he moved off a short distance, and tried to look as if he wasn't listening in on the conversation.

Carolyn turned her back on him. How dare he pat her cheek so condescendingly! Obnoxious man! Wife indeed! She was almost glad she hadn't bothered telling him that his hairpiece was slipping again.

"So, you're Claymore Gregg's wife?" the redhead eyed Carolyn with a strange look, as if wondering about her mental capabilities. "He asked me out once, and I laughed in his face. And you married him?"

"Yes." Carolyn said, firmly. She had given her word to Claymore to support him this weekend in any way she could, and that included lying for him as he had lied for her to her cousin and her parents. But he would pay. Oh, he would pay dearly for this!

"Why?" asked another woman.

"Why? Why did I marry him?" Carolyn floundered, "Well ... well, I love him, of course. He ... he has some of the Gregg qualities that I admire ..."

"Qualities? That man? Claymore? You mean a Gregg has qualities that can be admired? Like which ones?" the third woman asked, obviously very skeptical.

DANIEL Gregg certainly had qualities to be admired! Carolyn decided to simply list those. After all, the question had been simply 'a Gregg', not necessarily Claymore!

"All right, his qualities. Well, he's very protective, and looks after those he loves with all he is. He has an ability to take charge and get things accomplished, he's organized and able to organize others to fall in with his plans, he's amusing," Carolyn struggled to find more words to describe the Captain, and fell back on her feelings about him that morning, "aggravating, arrogant and overbearing!"

"How could you possibly love a man like that?" the redhead asked with a short laugh.

"Because he's also tender, thoughtful, romantic, is truly magnificent and has the most incredibly beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen!" Carolyn's eyes grew unfocused as she thought of him, and an intense look of love came over her face.

The three women looked over at Claymore who was hovering on the edge of a cluster of men and casting anxious glances towards them even as he sidled away. Then they looked at each other, and finally stared at Carolyn in silence. At last, one woman said, "Well, you ARE a writer ... this proves you've got the imagination for it, anyway!"

"I'll say. You can see things I sure can't!" agreed another.

"I read your book, The Memoirs of Captain Gregg," the redhead said. "Now THERE'S a Gregg to admire! I practically fell in love with him just reading about him! Oh, didn't you have a tiny picture of Claymore on the back cover?"

"Well, yes, I did ..." Carolyn said.

"Why didn't you mention that you were MARRIED to him? You never said a thing in your dedication about being married to him, either!"

"Yet you have two children?" added one of the other ladies, her eyebrows raised.

"The children are mine from a previous marriage." Carolyn said hastily.

"So when did you marry Claymore?"

"Just ... just very recently." she stammered.

"Oh, so you're on your HONEYMOON?" the redhead spoke up quite loudly. "Isn't that SWEET? Listen, everyone, the Greggs are on their HONEYMOON!"

Carolyn wanted to sink into the floor. Claymore strutted and preened and generally made a fool of himself. She endured another couple of hours before finally managing to drag Claymore away. Then she found that the whispers and catcalls doubled in intensity as everyone called out their best wishes, and to be sure to have a GOOD night, and was Claymore sure he was UP to the occasion?

Her face crimson, Carolyn made good her escape, Claymore still grinning inanely. They got on the elevator, and still had no privacy since the elevator man was eying them curiously. "Say, you look like that famous writer-lady. I heard tell you were staying here. Carolyn, isn't it? Carolyn Muir?"

"Gregg." Claymore said before Carolyn could say anything. "We're married. I'm her husband."

"Lucky man!" the elevator man grinned. "Sixth floor. Here we are. Honeymooners, right? Bet you have the honeymoon suite. Enjoy!"

Carolyn hurried out of the elevator and down to the room. Now she understood the significance of the big red heart on it. She still said nothing while Claymore unlocked the door and ushered her in. Then he made a big show of putting the chain on and sliding the deadbolt into place.

"Well, that certainly went VERY well, didn't it, Mrs. Muir?" he asked, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Just WONDERFUL!" Noticing that the bed had been turned down, and robes placed invitingly on each side, he continued, "Now, Mrs. Muir, which side of the bed do you want?"

Carolyn froze him with an icy glare. "I am taking the bed. YOU may have a blanket and a pillow on the floor!"

His jaw dropped. "But ..."

"Claymore, I am NOT sharing a bed with you!"

"Oh, very well! I suppose I can understand. But it IS a king-sized one!" he pouted. "Well, if you get the bed, then I get the bathroom first!"

"Go ahead." she sighed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Carolyn put her head in her hands. What a horrible weekend this was shaping up to be! She could never tell the Captain about this ... she could never tell ANYONE about this.

When Claymore finally emerged, his loud, Argyle pyjamas partially hidden by the hotel's robe, Carolyn threw him a pillow and a couple of blankets. Then she disappeared briefly into the bathroom, having already determined to remain fully clothed for the night. No sense giving Claymore any more foolish ideas than he already had! When she returned, Claymore was trying to hide the fact that he had taken another pillow off the bed.

"It's all right, Claymore," she said, wearily. "You may have two pillows."

"I should by rights have half the bed," he grumbled. "I AM paying for it, you know."

Carolyn ignored him, and shut out the light. After Claymore settled down on the floor, she tried to relax. She finally determined that she would go home first thing in the morning. Claymore wouldn't DARE hold the lease of Gull Cottage over her head after this!

"Mrs. Muir?" his voice came timidly through the darkness, sounding so pitiful that Carolyn's defences were instantly weakened. "Mrs. Muir?"

"What is it, Claymore?"

"I'm sorry. I know this was a despicable trick to play on you. It's just ... well, it's just that I wanted to show everyone that I'm not the complete failure they all thought I would be. I ... I wouldn't be telling you this, you know, but, well, you have been so understanding over the last couple of years ... and, well, you've been a true friend, Mrs. Muir. I ... to be honest, I've never really had a woman friend before. Oh, I played the field in college ..."

"Claymore ..." she spoke in a low, warning voice.

There was a pause, then, "oohhhh," he hummed in his particularly irritating way, "oh, very well, Mrs. Muir. I TRIED to play the field. No one would go out with me. I don't understand it. I mean, I'm not THAT bad, am I, Mrs. Muir?"

Carolyn said nothing.

"Oohhhh, I suppose you're the wrong person to ask right now. I wouldn't throw you out of Gull Cottage. You should know that. For one thing, HE would kill me. For another ... well, you made me feel so welcome that time I stayed there ... you looked after me ... I, well, I LIKE you, Mrs. Muir. And with you at my side tonight, everyone else suddenly liked me, and talked to me as though as I was a real person. I like that feeling, Mrs. Muir."

Carolyn rolled over, her eyes wide open as she studied the dim reflection of the harbour lights on the ceiling. Pathetic. He WAS pathetic. But ... but she felt sorry for him, too.

"Mrs. Muir?" now his voice was humble, "I just wanted to say thank you, and I AM truly sorry. I quite understand if you want to go back home tomorrow morning. I mean, it'll ruin me forever with the college people, but I can get along alone. I've done it all my life." He tried to sound brave, but Carolyn heard the quaver of resignation and distress.

In spite of herself, her anger vanished. Oh, she was still irritated with him, but pity was washing over her. "Claymore? I won't go home tomorrow."

For a moment, everything was still. Then he sat up abruptly. "You WON'T?"

"No." She sighed heavily, then said, "And you can even lie down on the other side of the bed. NOT under the covers, but ..."

Before she could finish her sentence, he had bounded up, and was stretching out on the bed, as far away as possible from her slender form. "Oh, THANK you, Mrs. Muir. I assure you, you won't regret this! I ... I just can't find words to express what this means to me ... Mrs. Muir, I am your slave for life! I know I've said that before, but this time I really, REALLY mean it! Mrs. Muir, I just can't TELL you how I feel ..."

"Claymore?"

"Yes, Mrs. Muir?"

"Go to sleep."

If Carolyn had found the wine and cheese party trying, the cruise on the Saturday afternoon was even more frustrating. Claymore's hairpiece would NOT stay in place. Carolyn was very aware of the snickers and sidelong glances. As they boarded, she and Claymore were separated momentarily. Carolyn stood by the rail watching as a flow of people came on and the crew members prepared to cast off.

She happened to overhear a group nearby excitedly discussing the fact that "the famous author, Carolyn Muir, was at the reunion with that nobody, Grigg or something, and supposedly they were on their honeymoon, but Freddy had been at the desk last night when Grigg phoned and asked for a cot to be brought to the HONEYMOON suite! Can you believe it?"

"Well, yes, having seen Gregg and remembering the few times he happened to be in my peripheral vision years ago, I can believe any sane woman would demand a cot!"

"Can you believe that hair? Does he think he's fooling anyone with that cheap thing?"

"Maybe we can grab it and drown it for him."

"It's easy to understand why he married her, but what could she possibly see in him?"

"Doesn't LOOK like he's made it big in the financial world."

"Must have some hidden qualities no one else can see. Deep, deep down."

"WAY down. I'd dredge up some myself if Carolyn Muir would marry me, though. What a gorgeous woman!"

"Maybe they had a fight last night. She looked a little cool towards him, wouldn't you say?"

Carolyn couldn't stand to listen any more. She looked around for Claymore and saw him leaning against the wall near the stairs, his face a greenish shade. "Claymore? What is it?" she asked, hurrying over.

"Seasick!" he mumbled. "I hate rough seas. Always have. Always will."

"It's perfectly calm, Claymore," Carolyn said.

"Ohhhhh!" He made a sudden dash for the side. People scattered, and Carolyn heard a short scream then a ripple of laughter from the crowds. She groaned inwardly, then resolutely went forward.

"Come on, Claymore. Let's find a steward. Maybe we can get you some gingerale. They may even have some Gravol or something for your motion sickness. Why didn't you take anything before you came?"

"I forgot it." he said weakly, clinging to her for support. His hair piece had slid over one ear. Carolyn reached up and straightened it for him. "Come on." she said again, and led him over to a bench by the wall. She sat him down, and he leaned back, his eyes closed.

"I need an ice pack, and I have to lie down." he mumbled. "We've been out for hours, haven't we? When do we reach dry land again?"

"Uhh, well, I'm afraid we are just pulling away from the dock now. It's a two hour cruise, isn't it?"

"Ohhhh," he moaned. "I'll never survive! I have to lie down. Take me inside somewhere."

"I'm sure the fresh air will be better for you," Carolyn said, comfortingly.

She managed to scrounge some motion sickness pills from someone, and stoically endured the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately it was a lovely day, and she had a bit of time to do her own dreaming and thinking. She found her thoughts turning to the Captain again and again. Had he really admitted that it was simply because he was a spirit that he had not wooed her? Now that she had the time to run the conversation over in her mind, she became more and more convinced that that was the problem. He would not admit or act on his love of her while they were of two different worlds! Why were all men such fools?

That evening, Carolyn dressed in the huge bathroom. She had brought the dress her mother had given her for Christmas the previous year. It was a deep emerald green that brought out the colour of her eyes, with a halter top that hugged her breasts and left her back bare. The long, silky polyester skirt flowed around her legs. Thinking of the Captain's reaction when she took it out of the closet, she wondered what he would think should he ever see her wearing it. Carolyn eyed her reflection dubiously for a moment, then shrugged and ran the comb once more through her hair. She used makeup sparingly. After all, she wanted to look nice, but she was not going out with the man of her dreams! Claymore was anything but!

A knock came at the door. "Mrs. Muir? Are you finished? I need some help with my tie, and I was wondering if ... uhh ..." His words trailed off as she opened the door. His eyes swept down her body, then back up, and he gulped.

"What's the matter?" She looked down at herself, to make sure she was decently covered and that the crossover front hadn't exposed her.

"I ... uhh ..." With a visible effort, Claymore pulled himself together. She could hear him muttering, "I am a GREGG. I can be suave and charming. I can be like HIM."

"Claymore?" Surely he wasn't serious about thinking he could be like the Captain!

He took a deep breath, then held out his tie, "Can you help?" His voice cracked.

Carolyn looked at him incredulously. He needed help with a bow tie that was on an ELASTIC? Sighing, she plucked it from his shaking hands, stood on her tiptoes to pull it over his head, and tucked the elastic under his collar, adjusting the tie in the front. "There," she said.

"That's it? That's all I had to do?"

Carolyn nodded. Her eyes took in the somewhat rumpled tuxedo he was wearing, and he swaggered, "I borrowed it from the undertaker again. Fancy, huh? Does it make you feel weak in the knees to see such a handsome specimen of manhood in his prime?"

"Yes," her voice was faint. She was afraid to say more in case she started to laugh. His hairpiece was slightly askew, and she wondered if she had moved it while putting on his tie. "Umm, Claymore, why don't you ... straighten up ... while I get my stole ..." she hurried out, leaving the bathroom to him.

At last they were ready to go downstairs. Carolyn entered the banquet room at Claymore's side. Bentley College had certainly gone to a lot of trouble with this reunion! The two found themselves seated at a long table, next to the three women and their husbands who had spoken to Carolyn the night before.

The redhead, Maureen, introduced her husband Neill, saying with a laugh that while she had studied business, he had studied women. Claymore stared at Neill. "Women?"

"I'm a gynecologist." Neill explained.

"Oh. I see." Claymore nodded wisely. Carolyn realized he had no idea that Neill was a doctor. "That must be interesting. I mean, how ...?" Before he could say any more, Carolyn interrupted him, handing him a glass of wine.

"Here, Claymore." she leaned closer and hissed in his ear, "A doctor for women!"

"I knew that." he returned, looking indignant. "I've just never understood why they need a special doctor."

Carolyn rolled her eyes. This was going to be ANOTHER interminable evening, she could see. Glancing at her watch, she thought of how at Gull Cottage Martha would be getting Jonathan and Candy ready for bed. If only she could be back there herself!

"A penny for your thoughts, my dear!" Claymore said, then giggled foolishly as he looked at the others. "Although her thoughts, when she writes them out, gain her much, much more than a mere penny!"

Carolyn ignored the last part. "I was just thinking of Gull Cottage."

"Gull Cottage? What a fascinating name!" Maureen leaned forward.

"It's my home." Carolyn smiled at her.

"Well, technically, you know, it's MY home." Claymore put in. "I pay the taxes. It's an old property, been in the family for years, you understand. Still is."

"Hmm." Maureen studied him as if she were trying to figure him out. Carolyn felt like telling her it was impossible. Then Maureen turned back to Carolyn. "Mrs. Gregg ..."

"Please, call me Carolyn," she said quickly.

"All right. Carolyn. Tell me about your children."

"Candy will be ten and Jonathan will be eight this fall."

"Our two monsters are the same age. We should get them together sometime. I have to tell you, Carolyn, I LOVED reading your book about the Captain. He sounded so fascinating. What a life he led!"

"I helped with the research!" Claymore said, but Maureen ignored him.

"Such a man is a rarity these days, isn't that so? Wouldn't it be wonderful to actually MEET such a magnificent man? You described him, well, almost LOVINGLY at times, as though you DID know him."

"Well, I ... I feel as if I did." Carolyn said. "He's ... he seems to have been someone you either love or hate."

"I hate him." muttered Claymore. Carolyn kicked him under the table and he yelped. Maureen looked at them both in mild astonishment, then Neill claimed her attention, and she turned away.

After supper, the centre tables were cleared away, and the band set up. Claymore hovered near Carolyn. His hairpiece was askew again, his face was flushed, and his general manner loud, boisterous and verging on obnoxious. He had had far too much wine at dinner. Carolyn debated guiding him up to their room, but when the music started, he insisted on dancing with his "beautiful, clever wife".

She tried to shush him, but he claimed he needed to "show her off", and would "sweep her off her feet". Reluctantly, she agreed to a dance, and his arms slid around her. As his hands touched the skin on her back, he jerked backwards, staring down at her. "Mrs. Muir!" he whispered frantically. "There's no BACK on your dress! I swear it wasn't me that ripped it off! Did you lose it?"

"That's how it was made, Claymore." she said, patiently.

"But ... but where am I to put my hands? I can't touch your ... your person!"

"It's rather difficult to dance without touching, Claymore." Carolyn took one of his hands, and placed it on her waist, then held the other out. "Shall we?"

"Well, you have to count with me, in case I lose track."

"It's a waltz, Claymore. You only have to count to three."

"I know," he muttered. "But you have to remember to move your feet at the same time. Okay, I'm ready. Let's roll!"

Carolyn tried to guide him, but it was difficult. She wondered if he had a hearing problem, because he certainly didn't even TRY to keep with the music. He stepped on her feet more than once, apologizing profusely each time. He drew her closer and closer, leaning heavily on her. At one point he said, "Mrs. Muir? Your dress is so smooth, so silky to touch ..."

She tried not to cringe when she felt his hands on her, wishing desperately that the Captain was with her instead of Claymore. Suddenly, from across the floor, she caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking figure. As Claymore turned her once more, Carolyn was startled to see the Captain, a grim expression on his face as he watched the dancers. Carolyn stumbled over Claymore's feet, which caused him to lose count. They stopped moving for an instant, Carolyn's gaze on the Captain. Suddenly he disappeared. She must have been mistaken. The Captain would not be in Boston, would he? She and Claymore resumed their attempt at dancing, and suddenly Carolyn realized something was different, vastly different. Incredulous joy bubbled up inside. She was dancing with HIM! This was the Captain, holding her ever so correctly in his arms! Her head came up, her eyes searched his. His hand was warm and steady at her waist, he held her precisely the proper distance away, and he moved ... oh, he moved with a grace no man should possess.

"Captain?" she whispered.

"Present, Madam." was the response. "May I say that you are the most exquisite person in this room? This lovely dress is the perfect complement for your many charms."

Carolyn caught her breath, then she smiled at him somewhat mistily. She could hardly believe the miracle. The conference room and all it contained flowed around her, unseen, unimportant, the mere frame for the moment. It could not last, of course; that was impossible. But just then she wished time WOULD stop, that the end of the dance would never come, and that she, herself, would never be anywhere save in his arms.

"Captain, talk to me!" she whispered again, her body moving perfectly with his. "I ... I need to hear your voice. It helps me forget about Claymore."

"My dear, I cannot find words to express my thoughts. Indeed, it is enough to once again hold you in my arms, to dance with you the waltz, that graceful and elegant dance of romance."

She thrilled to hear his voice, to be this close to him. But when her eyes met his again, a slight look of dismay crossed her face. The hairpiece was crooked again!

"What is it, my dear?" he asked, tenderly.

"Lose the rug, Captain!" she said, urgency colouring her voice.

"I beg your pardon?"

"That silly fake hair. Stuff it in your pocket or something ... discreetly! Please! I've hated it for the last two days, and want you to dispose of it quickly!"

"Ah!" With a quick look around, and seeing no one was watching, he soon had the hairpiece off and crushed in his hand. They danced over to the side where he deposited it in a trash receptacle. Carolyn smiled at him gratefully, and they continued to dance. The music moved from a waltz to a polka, and back to a waltz again. The Captain effortlessly and gracefully moved into each dance, Carolyn following with feet as light as her soul, filled with indescribable delight at being in his arms on the dance floor again.

Then she suddenly realized he looked like himself, not Claymore. "Captain, what are you doing!" she hissed. "Where's Claymore?"

"Madam, you know I am a master of illusion. Everyone else continues to see that splay-footed ninny. Only YOU can see who is really holding you in his arms!"

"You ... you can really DO that?" she gasped.

"Aye. Would that I could also create the illusion that you have a back to this dress! I dislike the fact that you are exposing yourself to so many eyes. I find it hard to believe that it is not considered scandalous in your time. Yet, looking around, I realize that your dress is actually quite mild in comparison to some of the others."

At that moment, another man tried to cut in. "May I?" he asked Carolyn.

She shook her head, smiling to soften her refusal. "Thank you, but no. I will stay with him. Forever." The Captain scowled at him, and with Claymore's affected laugh, said, "My dear man, I looked for this woman for years! I have no intentions of giving her up to ANYONE else, ever! Is that clear?"

Looking startled, then grinning at them both, the other man disappeared into the throng. The music slowed, and soon they were just moving against each other, Carolyn snuggled in the Captain's arms where she had long desired to be. Almost against his will, his hand hesitantly touched her bare back, then smoothed over it caressingly. "You will stay with me forever?" he asked.

"You looked for me for years?" she countered teasingly, unable to resist the opportunity. Her arms slid up of their own volition and she buried her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, running one finger suggestively over the exposed skin.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "What manner of dance is this?"

"My favourite," Carolyn murmured. "The slow dance. Mmmm." His hands traced down her spine, then he ran a finger all around the edge of the material. Her body tightened as she suppressed a shiver of delight, and he automatically spread his hands wide, soothing her gently, fingertips softly sliding in a circular motion.

"Perhaps I can hide some of your beauty with my hands!" his husky voice held a hint of laughter. "Then no one else will view it ..."

Smiling at his grumbling and basking in a world in which only the two of them existed, Carolyn pressed closer still to him, instantly feeling his response to her.

"Mrs. Muir!" he suddenly whispered in agitation, "That couple over there ... and that one there ... they are publicly embracing!"

"It happens," she whispered back, smiling up at him.

"It does?" He sounded shocked, then a wicked gleam came into his eyes.

"Oh, yes ..." her smile faltered at the look on his face, then she melted into him as his head lowered slowly. His mouth was on hers, hot and hard, not gentle as she had imagined, but hungry and demanding. And wonderful ... utterly and completely wonderful. She was swept by delight. She forgot to breathe, she forgot where she was, she forgot they had an audience. She was only aware of his wonderful kiss, thrilling her to the tips of her toes. In that moment out of time, nothing else existed. Nothing mattered except his mouth, the strength of his arms around her, and the sudden, shattering sense of rightness that claimed her.

"Oh, my dear ..." came his sigh, then his grasp tightened as he lifted his head. She kept her eyes closed, her hands clasped around his neck. As she drew a ragged breath, resting her forehead on his chin, she heard the muttered comments of a nearby couple.

"Isn't that Gregg? Must be more of a catch than anyone ever realized."

"Hmm ... look how hot that beautiful woman is for him!"

Carolyn hid her face in the Captain's shoulder. With a voice full of regret, she heard him whisper, "I am sorry ..." and in that instant, she knew he was gone. Her eyes flew open, she pushed back a bit, and a rather bleary-eyed Claymore was blinking owlishly down at her, looking as dazed and disoriented as she felt.

Suddenly she jumped as thunderous applause broke out. Claymore sagged into her a little, mumbling, "Mrs. Muir? What is happening? Why do I feel so ... so strange? Where are we? How did I get here?"

His questions were lost when a loud speaker blared. "As you all know, we have been watching the dancing, and the judges have now concluded their deliberations. For the prize for the worst dancers, two free passes to the Ballroom Dance School here in Boston ..." a wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. Carolyn was hardly listening. She was still rapt in her memories of dancing with the Captain, and the wonder of his kiss. Even Claymore, swaying next to her, couldn't claim her attention.

Then, through the haze of happiness, Carolyn heard, "And for our grand prize, for the best dancers of the evening, we call on Claymore and Carolyn Gregg!"

"No!" she drew back instinctively, but laughing people pushed the couple forward. Claymore was still staggering. The couple was ushered onto the stage and while she steadied Claymore, Carolyn was handed an envelope with their prize. They could either make use of the coupons for a free weekend in a harbourview suite courtesy of the Boston Harbour Hotel, or they could take the equivalent in cash. Claymore's eyes lit up at the mention of the money, but Carolyn held on to the envelope, a smile pasted on her face.

The M.C. for the evening shook their hands, and said to Claymore, "You know, Mr. Gregg, when the dancing began this evening, I could have sworn that we would be awarding you the booby prize! You were the absolute worst dancer I have ever had the misfortune to see! But suddenly, well, you and this beautiful lady here, you were poetry in motion on the floor. I've never seen anything like it in my life! Mrs. Gregg, either your husband is a very quick study, or you are the best teacher in the world. I'm sure any man would want to dance with you after viewing tonight's performance! Congratulations, both of you!"

As Claymore stumbled off the stage, he said in Carolyn's ear, "Poetry in motion, was I? You know, I remember starting to dance, but then everything went kinda fuzzy and I lost it. Do you think I possibly had too much to drink?"

"It's ... possible," Carolyn nodded her head, solemnly. She was thinking over the man's words. 'Poetry in motion' certainly described her feelings when dancing with Captain Gregg!

"We really were dancing beautifully? I mean, we actually won the grand prize! I can't believe it! Do you know, Mrs. Muir, I've never won anything like this before!" Before she was aware of what he was doing, he had snatched the envelope from her hand. "I think we deserve some champagne to celebrate, don't you?"

"Claymore, I wouldn't be too hasty with that prize ..." Carolyn warned him.

"Don't be silly. Who would take it from me? I won it fair and square, all on my own."

"Actually, to be quite technical, it is to BOTH of us. And Claymore, you don't even remember dancing!" she reminded him.

He clutched the envelope tightly to his chest. "But it's MY reunion, Mrs. Muir. MINE!" He swayed a bit on his feet, and grabbed her shoulder, almost throwing her off balance. "We need to celebrate." he muttered. Carolyn looked around and spotted an empty chair quite close. She steered him in that direction and settled him on it.

"I think you've celebrated more than enough." she said.

"Waiter!" Claymore suddenly called out. "Champagne for the fabulous couple!"

Flushing with embarrassment, Carolyn tried to hush him. The waiter hurried over with a couple of crystal glasses, and Claymore drained his after touching it to hers. Carolyn stared at him.

He frowned in puzzlement. "You aren't drinking? Okay." With that, he took the glass out of her hand and drained her glass, too. He smacked his lips. "Pretty good stuff. You don't know what you're missing, Mrs. Muir!"

"Claymore!" she protested.

His face slowly crumpled. "Mrs. Muir?" he said, weakly, shifting in the chair in an attempt to remain upright, "I don't feel very good ..."

"Oh, no! Claymore, please..." Carolyn tried to hold him up, desperately looking around for help.

"May we be of assistance?" To Carolyn's relief, Maureen and Neill were standing by her.

"He's ... he's not feeling well." she smiled apologetically.

"We'll help you get him to your room." Neill beckoned to another man who joined them. "I guess that dancing was too much for him. You were incredible! Seeing the two of you made me wish I'd paid more attention to dance lessons!"

"It was so romantic," Maureen said to Carolyn, "I watched the two of you all the time. You just floated around the floor! And that romantic kiss ... my dear Carolyn, I never would have thought that Claymore Gregg would have it in him to behave like that! You have obviously brought out many hidden talents in that man!"

Carolyn looked uncomfortable. She hated lying directly, especially to someone as nice as Maureen. The two men had heaved Claymore to his feet and were half dragging, half leading him out of the room. Carolyn and Maureen followed.

On the elevator, the elevator man winked at Carolyn. "Sixth floor, right?" Eying Claymore, he shrugged. "Takes all kinds. Won't be much of a night for YOU, though." he laughed heartily. "Here you are! Sixth floor. Take him to the honeymoon suite, boys!"

"The honeymoon suite? Oh, Carolyn, you and Claymore are on your HONEYMOON?" Maureen looked pained.

"No!" Carolyn shook her head. "No, we're not. It's just ... this was the last room available ..."

"I should hope so." Neill shook his head. "Some honeymoon."

"Yeah. Are you really sure you love this Gregg guy?" Neill's friend looked at Claymore with distaste.

"Certainly not THIS one!" Carolyn muttered under her breath. She unlocked the door of the room, and the two men manoeuvred Claymore inside. They tried to get him over to the bed, but he collapsed on the floor. When they attempted to drag him up, Claymore protested violently, throwing his arms around to escape their hands, clutching the prize envelope close. Then he curled up on the floor and began to snore. Carolyn's lips tightened. She covered him with a blanket, tucked a pillow under his head, and left him there snoring while she went to the door with Maureen, Neill and the other man.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said, shaking their hands.

"I wish you'd keep in touch," Maureen said, frankly. "I'd like to be your friend." Glancing around Carolyn to the form huddled on the floor, she added, "I have a feeling you need one badly."

"You are so right," Carolyn said, fervently. "I wish I could explain ... maybe later ... I ... it's not what you think ..."

Neill and his friend had gone down the hall. Maureen smiled at Carolyn, "I think you are a very nice person who has obviously agreed for some reason to come with Claymore Gregg to this reunion. I do NOT think you are married to him. I think you are much smarter than that. Now, if he had been like the Captain Gregg in your book, I could see you in love with him. But this guy? Claymore?" She shook her head. "But I'll keep this a secret. I don't think too many people will know, OR care. The one thing I really would love to know sometime, just for my own information, is who you were REALLY dancing with tonight, and who kissed you. I refuse to believe it was HIM." her glance returned to Claymore briefly.

"I'd love to be friends, Maureen," Carolyn's return smile was open and relieved. "You are more right than you know. I'll tell you about it sometime. I'll write to you, I promise."

"When a writer promises to write, you can assume she'll keep her word!" laughed the other woman. "Take care, my friend!" Maureen gave Carolyn a quick hug, threw a final disgusted look at Claymore, and hurried down the hall to the elevator.

Carolyn shut the door and locked it, deep in thought. Somehow, Maureen had guessed something. It would be nice to let another person in on the secret of Gull Cottage ... someone besides Martha ... someone closer to Carolyn's own age. She sighed. She felt that she really needed something to help her relax after such a strenuous night. After checking to be sure that Claymore was out like a light, she threw another blanket over him as he lay sprawled on the carpet, snoring loudly. Then she ran herself a bath, pouring in a liberal amount of the bath oil provided. Locking the door, she hurriedly undressed, and slid into the water. Luxuriating in the large tub, Carolyn immersed herself up to her collarbone and closed her eyes. Why had the Captain not stayed? After that kiss ... Her lips curved up at the corners with the memory, yet it was tinged with a faint pain. Why had he abandoned her yet again? The heat of the water seemed to penetrate to her bones, while the lavender scent of the bath oil caused fragrant steam to rise in the air. It felt so good. Just a few more minutes, then she would get out, put on her nighty and go to bed ...

The next morning, Carolyn came awake slowly, wondering if the evening before had been nothing but a dream. She thought about dancing with the Captain, and the kiss they had shared and hoped that perhaps this weekend had been a turning point in their relationship. They had both already gone through jealousy pangs previously when first Vanessa then Blair had come to Gull Cottage. Now that Carolyn had shown him clearly that she was not in the least interested in Claymore or indeed ANY living man, would the Captain treat her any differently at home?

She stretched, then sat up carefully and looked over to where Claymore was lying on the floor, soft snores emitting from his partially opened mouth. He was still curled in a fetal position, the prize envelope clutched under his chin in both hands. Lying back down, Carolyn thought of what she could say, what she SHOULD say to Maureen when she wrote. For write she would. She was badly in need of a friend to help her sort out this weekend in her mind!

After a few minutes, Carolyn couldn't stay in bed any longer. She quietly got up, gathered her clothes and went into the bathroom to dress. The tub was still full of water, now cold. Towels littered the floor. Her lovely dress was folded carelessly on the vanity. She looked around, a smile curving her lips. It was certainly easy to tell how distraught she had been last night to have left such a mess! Strange, she couldn't even remember going to bed! Her eyes sharpened as she suddenly caught sight of her wedding ring on the floor by the tub. Obviously she had forgotten it too. Scooping it up, she was about to slide it on her finger when she paused. Perhaps wearing it signalled to the Captain that she still felt tied to Robert. Maybe she would just put it away for now, as part of her past. Perhaps Candy or Jonathan would want it. She splashed some water on her face, dressed quickly and slid the ring into her pocket, let the water out of the tub and tidied up the room a bit. Then she went out to wake Claymore. She was suddenly very anxious to get home.

When she shook Claymore's shoulders, he came awake with a start. "No! It's MINE, I tell you! I ... oh! Mrs. Muir! What are you doing here? What am I doing here? I'm on the floor!"

"You had too much to drink, you said, and you passed out here last night."

He put his hand to his head experimentally. "No, no, I don't think so, Mrs. Muir." he said cautiously. "It doesn't FEEL like it, anyway. It just feels like a bad dream. I only remember bits and pieces. I remember eating, then starting to dance ... then there's a big blank, then I remember winning THIS!" and he triumphantly waved the envelope in the air. "Oh, Mrs. Muir, I can't thank you enough. You've made me the happiest man alive!"

Carolyn sat back on her heels and laughed lightly. "It wasn't all MY doing, Claymore. I was only one of the dance couple." Amusement tinged her words. No matter how irritated she was with him, she would never tell him the truth: that it had been the Captain dancing with her, the Captain who had been her partner, the Captain who had won the dance prize in the Gregg name.

Then Claymore almost leaped up, again clapping his hand to his head. "It's gone! Oh, Mrs. Muir, what have you done with it?" He began to root around the blankets on the floor, but of course, couldn't find the hairpiece.

"You're holding the envelope, Claymore." Carolyn pointed out.

"No, no! That's not what's missing! I just can't TELL you what a horrible morning this is turning out to be, Mrs. Muir!"

Carolyn finally said, keeping her face perfectly straight, "I'm sorry, Claymore. I just never thought of ... umm ... your hair, not after we got you back to the room."

"Oh, all that MONEY wasted!" he moaned, subsiding onto the floor again. "You're SURE you didn't throw it out?"

"Claymore, I swear I didn't touch it." Carolyn said. "Besides, I think the natural look is best."

"Oh, what do you know? You're not a man. And I know you don't look at me anyway. The only one you EVER see is the Captain, and he's not even a man!" he muttered crossly, starting to crawl around to look under the chairs and the blankets again.

"What?" Carolyn gasped.

"Just ... just don't listen to me, Mrs. Muir. I don't know what I'm saying. Maybe last night WAS too much for me after all." he admitted. Then he sighed, scratched the top of his head and straightened up. "Oh well, it feels better like this anyway. Shall we get ready to leave, Mrs. Muir? I'm rather anxious to get home ... I have a lot to tell my friends, you know!"

"A lot?" She eyed him speculatively. "Not mentioning MY name, of course."

"Of COURSE not! Why would I do that? It was MY reunion!"

"Of course. Umm, don't you think you had better change out of that tux? And you're getting it cleaned before you give it back?"

"Cleaned?" He looked down at himself. "I didn't spill anything, did I? Oh, I suppose I had better change for the drive. But I look sort of distinguished, don't you think?"

"A little rumpled right now."

"A few creases here, a few creases there, what does it matter?" he tried to smooth some out, then gave up. "You're right. I'll change."

It seemed no time at all that they were back in Schooner Bay, and Carolyn was pulling up in front of Claymore's place. He put his hand on the door, then turned to face her. "Again, I don't know how I can ever thank you for coming with me, Mrs. Muir. I am in your debt, truly! Please, anything at all I can do for you ... ANYTHING!"

"No more threats about possible eviction from Gull Cottage would be a start," she said, tightening her fingers around the steering wheel. It still annoyed her that he had used blackmail to force her to go with him to Boston.

"Threats? Mrs. Muir, I assure you, I wouldn't dream of threatening to evict you! You? Such a treasured tenant? Why, I ..." he coughed a little in an attempt to clear his throat.

"Then I may expect a rent decrease?" she murmured, looking at him fully.

He drew back, an astounded look crossing his face. "DECREASE? Why ... why ... Mrs. Muir ... I have to EAT! Gull Cottage doesn't bring in enough from the rent to pay the taxes as it is! No, I'm sorry, Mrs. Muir, I couldn't POSSIBLY bring the rent down. It's already ridiculously low!"

A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Nervously Claymore jumped out of the car. He didn't know if it was the Captain warning him or merely an accident of the weather, but he wasn't about to hang around to find out. "Good bye, Mrs. Muir. Thanks again! See you around!" and he was gone.

On the Wednesday following the Boston weekend, Carolyn found herself staring incredulously at the front page of the Schooner Bay Beacon. Martha had brought the paper in from the front porch, and upon opening it, had sucked in her breath. She had quickly skimmed the page, then she had quietly placed it in front of Carolyn on the kitchen table.

"WHAT?" Carolyn couldn't believe her eyes at the headline.

"I do hope it's not true, Mrs. Muir. Or should I be calling you Mrs. Gregg?"

The Captain appeared in the doorway. "Mrs. Muir is changing her name?"

"According to this headline, there's speculation that she is secretly married to ... to CLAYMORE!"

"NO!" Carolyn stood up, her face white. "Who could have written such vile things?"

"So you aren't married to Claymore?"

"NO!" Carolyn shook her head violently.

"And you didn't stay with him in the honeymoon suite at the hotel?" Martha pressed. "Because this says that the room -- note, THE room -- registered to Mr. and Mrs. Gregg was the honeymoon suite!"

Carolyn's eyes widened. "For a suite, it didn't have much to go for it. No extra beds, just the king-sized one which I used while Claymore slept on the floor!" she said hastily, "and a large jet tub in the bathroom ..." her voice trailed away as she met the Captain's eyes, then a blush crept over her face. Crossly she turned away. "It was just a room! You know Claymore ... he waited too long to book a room, and when he finally talked to me, there was just the one room left, and he had to take it. I had the bed ... he had the floor."

"Now THAT I believe," Martha nodded firmly. "Far more than this ..." Pushing the paper away, she started making some coffee. "I see the two of you won the grand prize for the best dancers of the evening." She swung around to Carolyn, "I find it hard to believe that of Claymore." Then her gaze went to the Captain and her eyes narrowed. "You DID go to the dance with her, as I suggested, didn't you, Captain Gregg?"

He inclined his head, a slight smile on his face. "I always do as I am told, Martha. I thought it was an order you gave me."

"Hmph. The day you'll ever obey anything I say ..." she muttered. "But all in all, I'm glad you went. It did seem to give Mrs. Muir a bit of excitement in her weekend."

"It did at that," the Captain agreed.

Carolyn kept reading, ignoring the other two. Her mouth was open in shock by the time she finished the article. "I can't believe anyone published this! Don't they realize they could be sued? I'm going to call Mark Finley right now ..."

"I'd phone Claymore first, Mrs. Muir," Martha advised her. "THEN Mark."

"I will KILL him first, my dear." the Captain spoke in a cold voice. "I will take him apart with my bare hands. THEN you may speak with him. And after I have dealt with him, I will burn the offices of that filthy rag to the ground! How many MORE scandals do they think they can perpetuate with their lies?"

"I'll deal with it, Captain, believe me!" Carolyn went to the phone. "Claymore? Have you seen the paper? Well, what are you doing about it? ... What do you mean your hands are tied?"

"Well, MINE are not!" and the Captain disappeared, even as Carolyn made a futile grab to keep him from leaving.

"Claymore, listen to me!" she ordered. "You send a retraction in right now. Right NOW, do you hear? I will NOT have this spread any further than it has! ... You're right, I DO sound furious! I AM furious! And I will sue ... yes, Claymore, I will sue YOU and the paper and ..." Even from across the kitchen, Martha heard a terrified shriek from the phone. Carolyn made a face, then hung up, rubbing her ear.

"I think the Captain found him." Martha said. "Or the fact that you might sue him was really, REALLY distressing."

"Probably a combination of both." Carolyn sagged into a chair again, and put her head in her hands. "And now the phone calls will start again ..."

Sure enough, at that moment, the phone rang again. The women looked at each other, then both looked down, and neither moved to answer it.

"Let's change the phone number." Martha suddenly suggested.

Carolyn laughed delightedly. "That's EXACTLY what I'll do. Right NOW!" She almost ran to the phone. "Thank you, Martha!"

Shrugging, Martha got the coffee cups from the cupboard. "What else are friends for? You have me for excellent suggestions, you have the Captain to pounce on anyone who crosses you, you have the children, and, dare I say, both myself and the Captain to adore you ... I'd say you're in a fair way to being spoiled!"

Carolyn stared at her, the phone in her hand.

Martha sat down, her face suddenly very serious. "Mrs. Muir, I know it's none of my business, but I've looked on you as family for a long time. I KNOW that the Captain is in love with you, and I know that you love him. Take it from me, as one who knows. Love, wherever it is found, is not to be sneezed at, or discarded or trivialized, even if it's not very conventional. I mean, who ever heard of being in love with a ghost? Really, Mrs. Muir, we have to believe and rejoice in love always."

Carolyn was moved almost to tears. She still could not say a word, she just looked mutely at Martha.

"Mrs. Muir, if my love were to come back as a ghost, I'd be over the moon!" Martha looked down at her own coffee, then back up at Carolyn. "You see, I was in love once, but he died. Ed's good company, and I could learn to love him if he ever decides our relationship is one worth pursuing, but it will never be the same as that other. You were married before ... you know you can love more than once. But the love I've seen between you and the Captain, well, that's special. Different. As different as are the two of you to most lovers." She stopped, then laughed. "Listen to me, blathering along here! I guess it just had to come out. Now is as good a time as any, I suppose. But you make sure that Claymore prints a retraction to that rubbish there. I wouldn't mind learning to call you Mrs. Gregg, but I draw the line at it being Mrs. CLAYMORE Gregg!"

Suddenly the Captain was there again, fastidiously wiping his hands. In his velvety smooth voice, he said to Martha, "There will never be a Mrs. Claymore Gregg."

"Daniel!" the name burst out of Carolyn's mouth. "You DIDN'T!"

"You haven't KILLED him, have you? REALLY killed him, I mean, not scared him to death?" Martha exclaimed.

"Oh, ye of little faith!" he shook his head at them both, then vanished again. An instant later, he was back. "As an aside, Carolyn, my dear, I find I like hearing you call me by my first name. You have my permission to continue." and he was gone again.

"What? Your PERMISSION?" Carolyn glared around the kitchen, but he didn't reappear.

Martha chuckled. "I guess that's his way of saying he wouldn't mind hearing you called Mrs. DANIEL Gregg, either. Such a shame that it'll never be. What do you think he did to Claymore?"

"I don't even want to hazard a guess, Martha," Carolyn sighed. She looked down again at the Schooner Bay Beacon, and the questioned report of her secret marriage to Claymore. "What do you think all this will do to my reputation -- here in Schooner Bay and, well, anywhere? What will the children think? What about my parents? The Muirs? I can't believe all this has snowballed simply because I agreed to do one small favour for Claymore!"

"It's only because I know Claymore that I can believe it, Mrs. Muir." Martha said, comfortably. "But don't worry about it. We're in the 1970's now, and anything goes, so I'm told. No one will ever think of this again past next week."

"Except Claymore."

"And only because we'll be reminding him how much he owes you, from now to eternity! Hmm, wonder if he'd spring for a NEW water heater? No, I have a better idea, Mrs. Muir. Tell him you'll buy Gull Cottage and he won't ever have to worry about the Captain again!"

"I can't afford that, Martha!"

"Oh, it should be worth an agreement never to sue over the alleged secret marriage. And maybe you'd buy the new water heater yourself after the proceeds from your best seller start rolling in."

"Martha, that's blackmail!" Carolyn protested, but a big smile was growing. She would do it, and it would serve Claymore right!

"So it is. My, my." Martha shrugged. Then they both laughed.


End file.
